He Lies in Wait
by BludKillaHoodRat
Summary: A young Legionnaire begins to doubt the life he's known when he meets an unlucky girl with a Pip-Boy and bleeding heart. Maybe the Legion isn't all he thought it was. Maybe they're wrong. But then, what is right? And what should happen to the Mojave?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I own absolutely nothing that Bethesda owns because Bethesda owns it and I do not. I hope you enjoy my little opening and I encourage any and all comments! **

He Lies in Wait

Revelation 4:7 - "The First Living Creature like a Lion"

Damn it was hot. The Mojave sun beat down mercilessly on the already parched earth as the town of Nipton was slowly reduced to ash. The young legionnaire's nostrils wrinkled in disgust as the stench of burning flesh, melting rubber, and blood diffused over to his perch at the Legion Safe House. He was dictated to observe the road as Vulpes' idea of a 'lottery' consumed the debased and corrupt town below. It was a simple job unworthy of the established warrior's skill set, but it was still his duty to the Legion. A duty he would see through until the end.

He rolled his broad shoulders to relieve the strain of many patient hours despite the futile attempts of his heavy Centurion armor restraining him. His muscles were toned from years of harsh training and he had grown accustomed to the dense garb he wore daily, many years ago. Inhaling the hot air, his intense blue eyes looked down through the scope of the anti-material rifle he cradled in his weathered hands. Normally, the Legion denied such weapons as the one the Centurion carried, but he was a special case. Always has been and always will. His aim was too impeccable to not be put to use.

The lottery was coming to a close and there were only two profligates left. Both were powder gangers. Revolting. He pulled back from the scope and looked towards the Mojave Outpost just down the road. What a joke. The warrior's eyes narrowed out of hatred as he gazed upon the ridiculous statues built up from lies and literal trash. Turning away, he shook his head, causing the crimson feathers atop his spotless helm to ripple like red water. He thought coming to the Mojave would allow him a great opportunity to serve Caesar, the man who had given him everything, but so far he had only been following around Caesar's lap dog, Vulpes Inculta. In a word, serving alongside Vulpes was awkward. The Frumentarius' style was distinctly alien to that of which the Centurion knew, but the young Legionnaire's natural curiosity was strangely satisfied by learning from the Fox. It seems that the Centurion had a knack for treachery and disguise, but then again, he had a knack for everything. No matter how his father had cursed Vulpes' name around him, the young warrior could not deny that the Fox was deadly and efficient, if not a little cold. Oddly, the Centurion found himself admiring the Head Frumentarius and hoped to learn much more from him. Enough to one day surpass his belligerent father.

He picked up his weapon again and looked through the sight towards the road when he saw a figure approaching. Probably NCR. His trigger finger itched as he followed the individual closely with the barrel of his weapon. Soon he was able to make out a few details. She was female and bore no mark of the Bear. A simple traveler. He relaxed and looked back towards Vulpes. It seems a winner was decided. Screams of the 'runner up' reached the boy's trained ears as the powder ganger had his legs crippled with hammers. A fitting punishment. The Centurion could not help but laugh as the new cripple began to crawl his way down the main street. He was pathetic. How far could he possibly get? He silently made a bet with himself that the powder ganger could not even make it to the general store on the corner.

Sighing, the Legionnaire removed his helm, freeing his golden mane. He ran his fingers through his choppy, corn silk waves, granting his head relief from the intense heat of the armor. He had specific instructions to allow the first traveler he saw through. They would be trusted to spread word of the Legion and its deeds. This girl was lucky to be granted such an honor. If only she knew.

He turned his attention back the oncoming female. Upon closer inspection, he noticed a technological band displayed on her wrist. He had only recalled seeing one other in his lifetime, but could not draw up any more information on the subject. Her hair was a chestnut color that shown in the light of the merciless sun and her lean figure was swallowed by a large duster she must have raided from a man twice her size. If the latter were the case, it would be impressive. Her slightly curly locks bounced as she walked and a few strands blew behind her in the warm breeze. But the way she carried herself was her most notable quality. Her head was high and her shoulders were back as though she thought highly of herself. So unlike that of any common wastelander, always looking so defeated. She was pretty for a profligate. At least from this distance. She could make a good officer's wife one day. Or maybe she would be better off free.

The victor of the lottery advanced towards her, cheering and shouting obnoxiously. Degenerate. The future messenger quickly drew out a pistol of some sort and exchanged a few words with him. He passed her and ran off, leaving the wasterlander confused. She kept her weapon unsheathed as she cautiously walked into the town. Eyeing the general store, she entered. The Centurion scanned the area. It seems the cripple made it to the general store after all. Damn.

It took nearly half an hour for the traveler to exit the collapsing building. How disappointing. She was a common scavenger after all. Now bored with the wastelander, his eyes began to wander to the curves of her figure until her body language changed. She stiffened. Cowered slightly too. The sight of Vulpes made her nervous. And not without reason. The Centurion would try to avoid facing the Fox in combat himself. He had been able to analyze the Head Frumentarius throughout the duration of his stay and concluded his wit would make him more than a match, not even factoring his strength. The young Legionnaire was surprisingly cautious and observant, setting him apart from other Centurions. This trait is what made him excel so young.

As soon as Vulpes finished whatever speech he had prepared, the wastelander turned around and left Nipton as quickly as she had come. How laughable. Well, his job was done here. The Legionnaire began to dissemble his prized rifle and stow it away in a custom leather rucksack. It was only a few minutes before Vulpes approached the Centurion. His voice was unmistakable, "Awe, Leonides." The golden boy looked up from what he was doing, "Awe, Vulpes Inculta."

"I have a special mission for you now. To see if you have learned anything from observing me or if it's true that you really can't teach an old dog new tricks." Leonides perked up as the Frumentarius continued, "That girl holds great potential within her. The one with the Pip-Boy. Make sure she finds herself on the right side of the war front." He turned away at this and began walking away, pausing just before he was out of view, "Everything you need is in the Safe House. Good luck, little cub."

Leonides made a face. Little cub? Only his mother was allowed to call him that. What made Vulpes think he could address him in such a familiar tone? He shook his head. Never mind. It was a petty matter. The Centurion entered the Legion Safe House, embracing the cooler air, before removing his hefty armor and gently placing it piece by piece on the display rack left in the building. It gleamed in the dim light. Since it was cleaned, the metal and leather felt foreign to him. There were no comforting scratches or dents from the battles he had won. There were no longer any rust colored stains from when he had bathed in the blood of his victims. There was no part of him in it. The armor was just armor. It didn't feel the same. None of it did since his arrival in the Mojave.

Shaking these traitorous thoughts from his head, he grabbed a nearby rag and wet it before he began washing off the perspiration that had formed over his skin in the hot Mojave day. His body shivered at the sudden application of the cool water, but the muscles rippling underneath his tan flesh relished the relief. By the end of his cleansing, he felt cold. Quickly, he changed into a simple bounty hunter duster, complete with a cowboy hat and a worn pair of sunglasses to return some warmth to his body. Leonides was uncomfortable wearing pants after years of adorning only kilts and tunics, but this was acceptable profligate wear and the goal was to blend in. Still, what was he supposed to do with his dick?


	2. Chapter 2

**Still don't own anything Bethesda does. Probably never will. Last time I'm saying this as well. I figure you cats can catch on fast. I think you're great. **

Psalms 17:12 – "…As a Young Lion Lurking in Ambush"

Leonides left the shade of the safe house and shoved his copy of the key into the scratched padlock, hesitating for a moment at the door. It would be a while before he would once again be united with the familiar crimson and gold banners that were so crucial to his childhood. This thought caused a wave of conflicting emotions to wash through his body and send a shiver down his spine. He would finally have some freedom to make his own choices, freedom outside a field of battle. A chance to live his own life for a moment and not a life for the Legion, something he had always been curious about. On the other hand, he would also be completely isolated in enemy territory. That alone was unnerving, even for a warrior like Leonides. No matter what angle of perspective used, the Centurion knew he would always be at a disadvantage. He sighed sadly. There was no going back now though. He turned the key, but didn't turn back. For now, he was no longer a man of the Legion.

He clambered down to the main road and looked in the direction of the NCR outpost. There was no one coming yet. Damn girl. What was taking her so long? He spun around slowly in circle once, observing his surroundings and planning the perfect spot for his 'accidental' run in with the wastelander. He stopped suddenly in the direction of the road leading out of Nipton, eyeing the ravine. Tactically, that would be the perfect spot for an ambush, even a friendly one. Mind made up, he set off and ascended one side of the rock formation, kneeling in the dirt once he arrived at the top. Slightly ahead in the ravine, Leonides observed some common profligate gang members milling about and placing mines. He scoffed at their petty attempt of playing highwaymen. No, wait, this would be perfect. He could play the hero that saves the girl and wins her undeniable attention. The disguised Centurion smiled and settled down, pair of binoculars handy, waiting for the wastelander to approach and fall in love with him.

It was no more than twenty minutes before he caught sight of her proud posture once again striding down the road. She stopped by the general store for a second time, coming out in just a few minutes. What purpose would that have served? She already raided the place before. Curious beast. Boldly, she approached the closest house and Leonides groaned out loud. How long was this profligate going to take? Leonides pleaded to the gods that the traveler wouldn't traverse through every single, damned house! Ah, but she did. Of course. The Centurion scowled. This bitch was already getting on his nerves.

Leonides felt his eyes grow heavy as the minutes ticked by. The intense heat of the Mojave combined with the Nipton fires made the Centurion feel as though he were baking alive even without his confining armor. The solitude also left him alone with his thoughts longer than he would have liked. He daydreamt of all the fantastic places he would see in the Mojave. He heard the slaves talk about a glowing city. New Vegas is what they whispered. Maybe he would reach it. All the profligates dreamt of it. He laughed at himself because here he was doing the same. What if profligates were not so different from Legion men after all? No, that couldn't be it. Caesar built his empire for a reason. Caesar assimilated tribes for a reason. And Caesar wanted this land for a reason. His Lord had never led him astray before. This time would be no different.

A crow flew overhead and Leonides was reminded of hunting tips he took with his younger brother. Hopefully there were new beasts for them to slay together in this new land. Oh, he could hunt some here on his own and bring his family new and exotic furs when he returned. They would like that. Maybe he could even find something glamorous for his mother and sister, but the profligate bitch may have to help with that one, since women were so hard to please. Leonides smiled as memories of his family drifted through his mind. He longed to see them soon. They were his reason for fighting and traveling out here in the first place. His happy demeanor would be short lived. Dark thoughts diffused into his mind, poisoning his memories and killing his smile. What if he never saw them again? What if he died? This is foreign territory after all, crawling with his enemies. What if his cover were blown? What would happen if the wrong person discovered his true identity? What if he failed his mission? Leonides began to develop a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, ending his desire to think. He couldn't leave his family alone with his father. He would have to survive for them. No. He would have to become the Mojave's master.

Finally, after two tedious hours, the profligate wench left Nipton, Hopefully for good. The sun would set soon, too. The Centurion grinded his angular teeth. This filthy whore wasted an entire day out of greed. As she passed under Leonides' perch, it took every fiber of his being not to pounce on her then and there. Degenerates like her infuriated him. And, as he predicted, the gangsters, or whatever they called themselves, attempted to murder the unsuspecting wastelander. To Leonides' surprise, one of the attackers was able to acquire a grenade rifle in his lifetime. Quite a prize in these wastes and something he was definitely not counting on. This item alone seemed to turn the tide of the scrimmage in the highwaymen's favor. Leonides stalked the edge of the ravine, waiting for the perfect chance to strike, as he watched the battle unfold beneath him. He was now slightly more concerned for the safety of the bitch, but he was still cautious. He had to wait for an opening. The wench held up better than he had anticipated, taking out the lesser two highwaymen on her own. However, one shot from the grenade rifle landed too close to her delicate frame and she went flying backwards, crashing into the ground rather hard. Her landing kicked up a sizable amount of dust, clouding the grenade rifleman's vision and providing the Centurion with the window he needed. Cursing himself for not intervening sooner, Leonides took aim now with a simple pistol, firing a clean shot through the enemy's head. The rifleman's body slumped to the ground. Pfft. Still pathetic. The Centurion descended the rock formation rapidly and stalked carefully over to his next assignment, praying she were not too damaged. This was a bad call on his part, but he learned from it and would be better prepared next time. If there was one that is.

Her eyes were closed, but the Centurion could see her chest rising and falling with the reassuring motion of breathing. Leonides sighed in relief. He had not already failed his mission, gods be praised. He kneeled next to her and inspected the unconscious wastelander. Up close, she was even more beautiful. Her hair had a distinct reddish tint at this distance that was brought out by her ghostly pale skin. No. It was porcelain. The only flaw to it was a funny sun shaped scar slightly above her right eyebrow. She didn't look like a normal profligate, but the Centurion couldn't explain how. What was it about this girl? Her eyelids fluttered open suddenly, causing the Legionnaire to flinch. Her large, green irises quickly caught sight of Leonides' towering figure and she rolled away, aiming her pistol at his chest, "Back off creep!" Amused, he raised his hands, pulling his best accent out, "I mean you no harm, ma'am." She stared at him, eyes angry, but lowered her weapon anyways. Leonides in turn lowered his hands and smiled at her with white teeth and sharp canines, "My name is Leoni-"

He stopped himself and made an obvious face. Leonides is definitely not a profligate name. How could he have not thought of an alternate identity with all that time to himself? He felt Vulpes laughing at him from wherever he was and Leonides' face grew hot with embarrassment. The girl looked at him strangely, "Did you say Leon? And what's up with your face? Were you hurt or something?" Leonides composed himself, "No, well, yes. Um, I'm not hurt. You can call me Leo. Just Leo." He smiled awkwardly after he finished tripping over his words. Definitely not the entrance he had imagined. Ugh, smooth. The girl brushed her reddish hair out of her face before rising to her feet, "I'm Heather. Pleasure to meet you, Just Leo. So tell me, Just Leo, were you named after the horoscope or the Greek root?" Leonides stood also, noting the mocking tone she addressed him with. If they were on the other side of the river, her quick tongue would be fed to the hounds. Still, he bowed slightly and summoned his best Southern accent, "The pleasure is all mine, Miss Heather. And I don't think it matters which option inspired my parents. They both mean the same thing in the end." Heather smiled, "I suppose that's true. 'Lion' is still an odd namesake either way you look at it. Those creatures haven't really walked the earth in a long time." Leonides could only remember seeing a lion once in his life, now that she mentioned it, and that was in the pages of book his mother read to him. But he never really thought much of it. Somewhat curious, he looked at her, "What were you named for?" The girl inspected herself for injury before responding, "A flower that grows in barren lands. Much like what you see around you. My mother thought it held both beauty and strength or something. Names have always been important to our family. Couldn't really tell you why. I think it has something to do with deciding your fate, but that's all tribal superstition." Names were very important to Legion families for that very reason, but there was no way the Legion could be considered tribal. Foolish degenerate. He was the son of a lion and that was nothing to scoff at. Leonides hoped he didn't look as offended as he felt.

Slowly, the Centurion removed his hat and pushed his shades into his messy hair, revealing his icy hunter's eyes. The wastelander almost gawked at him, but quickly composed herself, "Thank you for saving me. I had no idea the kind of heat these guys were packing. Just my luck. Where are you headed stranger? Oh, I mean, Leo." She laughed lightly, putting Leonides at ease after the heavy naming conversation. This profligate was truly unlike any he had ever met before, but he just couldn't put his finger on how. Vuples was right, this girl must be special.

"I'm just wandering really. Probably headed to New Vegas eventually. I hear that's quite a sight to see." He hoped that was a logical sentence. Every profligate heads there after all. It's comparable to a Holy Mecca for them. Except there's nothing holy about the place. Everything the Legion preaches against thrives in that pit of a town. If Vulpes were smart, he would have targeted that city instead.

Heather smiled, "I'm headed the same way, Leo! And, I know this is a weird thing to ask and is rather sudden, but would you like to travel together for a while? The wastes are dangerous for lone wanderers." The hardened Centurion inwardly laughed. This profligate was afraid of the unknown and wanted his protection. Honestly, he couldn't blame her. She looked like easy prey. Nonchalantly, Leonides fanned himself with his hat, "Teaming up would be beneficial to both of us I suppose. However, I feel as though you already have travel plans in mind or at least a premeditated goal of sorts."

"Yeah, I guess you could call it that. I have a main goal and side goal currently. Will you still travel with me knowing that?"

"Well," he let her hang on his words before flashing her a charming smile, "I don't have anything better to do." Heather looked delighted, "Oh thank goodness. I have the worst luck of anyone I know. I have literally lost every hand of Caravan I've played. I feel better already knowing you're around." Leonides winked, "I'll do my best to keep you safe, Miss." Wait, what was Caravan? Heather walked past him, smile tugging at the corner of her lips. The faint smell of antiseptic and spring time wafted into his nostrils as she passed. What a strange combination.

Heather looked back, "I'll tell you more about the side mission as we walk. Day light is burning!" No thanks to your scavenging, greedy profligate. He easily caught up to her stride and watched silently as she fiddled with the contraption on her wrist. There was a map on the display screen and a marker of sorts. It baffled Leonides who had gone most of his life without the same technology the profligates dealt with on a daily basis. Heather felt his stare and looked over at him, misinterpreting his confusion, "It's a Pip-Boy. Super old technology from the vault era. It's a hand held… everything. Really helps out in the wastes. That's why they were designed. I wish there was a way for everyone to get one. Access to technology is one of the main reasons there is such a sharp division between classes currently." Leonides tilted his head to the side, "You think distributing technology will close this gap instead of creating war and strife?" Heather shot him a weird look, "The only technology that's ever started war in the history of humankind was weapons research like atomic bombs. Otherwise, technology has always been a blessing." Leonides went quiet. That was the opposite of what he had been taught. This profligate had no idea what she was talking about. It was really annoying.

A few moments of awkward silence passed before Heather broke it, "Anyways, there are some people that were taken from Nipton to be sold into slavery and I think we should rescue them. It's on the way after all." Leonides made a face, "Where did you learn this and why do you care?" He had to convince her to stray away from this before he was marked as a traitor. Why was this bitch such a hassle?

"Well, Leo, there was a horrible thing that happened in Nipton and a poor cripple was one of the only survivors. After doing the best I could with his legs, he told me there were other survivors that were taken away to be slaves. So I feel like we should do something about it. You know, the right thing." Leonides wrinkled his nose at her patronizing tone, "And what if it will prove dangerous to us?" Heather shrugged, "We can at least scope it out." Damn this degenerate wench. It was no use too. No matter what angle he argued from, she still wanted to go through with this quest. She was more stubborn than he was and eventually he was forced to give into her whims for the sake of not appearing too Legion friendly. How could he last this entire mission?

They used the last of their daylight to approach the Legion Raid Camp. It was almost unbelievable how quickly the temperature dropped with the fading of the sun. The Centurion shivered slightly in the desert's darkness and could not help but miss his heavy armor and its fur adorned cape. The cold never bothered him when he was wearing that. The air was abuzz with sounds of mutated creatures and gunfire off in the distance and there was a fire crackling in the middle of the Legion camp that Leonides prayed would cover the sound of their approach. He was light on his feet, but his new companion was clumsy and uncoordinated. It was laughable how she moved around sometimes. Almost like a mole rat with three legs. The shadows of two Legion men stretched long and thin while the two slaves' shadows were more like blobs. On his own, this would be easy. It would also help if they weren't his own men. Designs and plans flowed through Leonides' mind as he tackled this situation. How could he get out of this? He looked at his companion who was squinting in the dark. He rolled his eyes. Gods, she was embarrassing.

"Heather," he whispered, "Stay here and I'll approach from the rear, okay? You can just be support." Heather was about to protest, but Leonides shot her a commanding look. Interestingly, she was intimidated and closed her mouth. With that, Leonides vanished into the darkness with a smug expression plastered across his face. This bitch may yet be tamed. Silently, he made his way around to the back of the camp, sneaking into the largest tent from under a loose flap. Sure enough, the Decanus on duty was present. Quickly, Leonides removed his hat before aggressively whispering, "Decanus! I am Centurion Leonides!" The Centurion held his Mark of Caesar up in the light for the Decanus to see. The feathered man turned, drawing his blade, pausing for half a second, "What Centurion skulks around in profligate garb?!" Leonides opened his mouth to answer, but the Decanus had swung his machete at him before he could mutter a single word. Easily evading the predictable blow, Leonides took a step back. He should have known better as a man of the Legion himself; these people cannot be reasoned with. With a heavy heart, Leonides gripped the machete at his side and prepared for battle.

The world always seemed to move in slow motion when Leonides was in the midst of war. His mind processed the movements of his enemies and allies far faster than they could perform them. To his dismay, the Decanus was most unworthy of his title. The feathered man new only the basic combinations taught in training camp and had no originality to his battle style. It did not take very long for Leonides to separate his head from his body. The Decanus' blood spewed from his arteries in their last moments of circulatory pulsation and formed a pool when his corpse fell to its knees. Human life was so fragile.

This commotion attracted the attention of the two recruits guarding the slaves. Leonides heard their boots crunch the dried earth as they approached the main tent. Covering himself in the blood of his latest kill, Leonides laid still on ground as the Legionnaires walked in to investigate. They knelt by their Decanus and seemed upset, but not for long. The two moved over to Leonides and one systematically reached to check his pulse. Leonides grabbed the Legionnarie's wrist roughly and bent it until there was a sickening snap. The Legionnarie cried out in pain as his partner fumbled for his machete. Leonides ended the second's attempts of grabbing the weapon by slicing off his arm just below the elbow. He cried out in anguish like his partner before him. The first attacker had recovered by now and had his machete pointed at Leonides' back. Spinning away from the assailant's stab, he quickly disarmed his opponent and made a stab of his own straight in the man's heart. Looking at the recruit, he slowly stabbed his weapon deeper, waiting for the light to fade from the soldier's eyes. The second enemy charged and Leonoides used the man on his machete as a meat shield. The other Legionnaire got his weapon stuck inside of his companion's corpse, allowing Leonides time to pull out a small throwing knife and lodge it between the second Legionnaire's eyes. Both bodies fell to the ground with a thud. The battle was over in barely two minutes.

Upon exiting the tent, he saw the two other Legionaries were still asleep on their bedrolls. Hyped up on adrenaline, he began to stalk towards them with his machete and teeth bared. These men were sloppy and pathetic. They deserved this fate. There is no way a man should be able to single handedly take out a raid camp. This was a mission from the gods to purify his Legion. He would have to thank the wench for this opportunity later. The Centurion silently slit the throats of the two sleeping men and began walking to the slaves.

The two powder gangers were quaking where they knelt when Leonides approached them. His blonde mane was matted with blood and his face was equally as coated. The beastly expression on his face did not improve matters either. He cut their bindings and pointed to the small dune the profligate was perched at, "Go to my companion and she will give you further instruction." The powder gangers ran away to the dune, scared out of their wits, and nearly tripping over themselves. Face hard, Leonides walked back into the main tent and washed his face with a bottle of water and a cloth. There was no point in scaring the profligate. He also grabbed two more bottles and some sustenance for the both of them. He wasn't going to deny the hunger eating away at his stomach and figured he should try to make the profligate like him with this offering.

Leonides took one last look at the camp. If he were right, and he usually was, there was still one lookout left somewhere that could send word and repopulate this camp. That way the Legion would not lose this spot. But they would hopefully earn some better soldiers to protect it. When he arrived at the dune, the degenerate wench was almost done with the first aide she was administering. The powder ganger that had already been tended to waited patiently for his companion to be inspected. Every so often, they would shoot terrified glances up at Leonides. He grinned devilishly at their fear. This was the emotion that laid the foundation of success and seeing fear in the eyes of his enemies always boosted his ego. Well, more than it usually was that is.

The moment the profligate cleared them, the two sprinted into the darkness without so much as a 'thank you'. Leonides nearly snarled at the disrespect, "Nice guys." Heather shot him a look, "They have been through a lot. Try to understand that not everyone can be as strong as you." Leonides made a face before retorting, "But they all should be as strong as I. That way, things like this wouldn't happen." Heather rolled her eyes and folded her arms like a typical profligate prostitute, "Things like this will always happen despite the overall strength of the population because there will always be someone stronger and human nature and all that. Look, I don't really want to debate philosophy with a mercenary jarhead right now. I would like some shelter."

"One should not speak of irrefutable 'always' when discussing the ever evolving human race and who are you calling a mercenary jarhead?" Leonides clenched his teeth. How dare this wench insult his intelligence in such a manner! He devised military strategy that demolished countless tribes. He had never lost a battle in his lifetime! And in order to defeat his father, he intended to hold that record. That's why he made sure his physical skills were as sharp as his mental ones. That's how true conquerors were after all. Alexander the Great, Napoleon, Julius Caesar, even Hitler. It was all about a balance of strength and smarts with a little bit of mercy thrown in.

"Sorry, Leo, I wasn't trying to insult you. You just don't seem to be the scholarly type is all."

"You made that judgment with only a few hours' time? No wonder you were not prepared for those highwaymen with your rash thinking and judgments. How have you even survived this long?" Leonides glared at her. Never before had someone thought poorly of him. This wench was causing all sorts of new feelings to stir inside of him. He did not like it.

She looked back at him apologetically, pale skin reflecting the moon's light, "Look, I'm sorry I offended you. You're obviously quick witted to be able to survive in this world." Her gaze cast downwards, "Truth is, I am the one who shouldn't be alive." Leonides raised an eyebrow as she continued, "I'm sure you have noticed the scar on my forehead. I was shot and then buried in a grave. I shouldn't be alive and still have no scientific explanation to how I am alive. It was just dumb luck I guess. I can't really remember much from the past six months either. But that's what put me on my so-called main mission. The men that shot me also took something from me and I want it back. And I think I want to hurt him too." There was a curious determined glimmer in her eyes as she muttered those last words. This glimmer was familiar to Leonides for he had it often himself. It was bloodlust. Finally, they had something in common.

The girl was shaking out of anger and Leonides softened his expression. He should try to calm her down. He began to speak, "I know the feeling." She looked at him, still upset, "Of being shot in the head and losing your most recent memories?" Leonides stumbled over his words, "No, er, what I meant was, well, thinking you shouldn't be alive and stuff." He smiled nervously at her and her face expressed that she wanted more to the story, but the story would give too much away. He was no good at comforting people. Why did he even try? He quickly changed the subject, "I noticed on your Pip-Boy that there is a town somewhat nearby. We can probably make it there by halfway through the night." He looked down at the small sack in his hands, "But first, let's eat something. I am starving." He sat down in the dirt and she soon followed. She didn't pressure him about what he had said and he liked that. It was different. Both in better moods, their dinner conversation was surprising light and easy. Heather named every constellation in the sky and most of the lore behind them too. And Leonides identified almost every animal call that echoed through the night air. It was interesting to Leonides how she knew such different knowledge that proved just as practical as his.

They set out as soon as the food was finished, heading in the direction of Novac. Leonides was right. It didn't take them long to reach it and they had no trouble either. The only thing that made Leo uneasy was passing the Ranger Station and noting the fairly obvious Legion tracks nearby. It seems like something would be going down soon and he did not want to be caught in the crossfire with his precious cargo. He prayed for a swift victory for the Legion through. Every little battle counted.

The girl laughed out loud when she sighted the giant dinosaur, "What a ridiculous architectural feat." Leonides stared at the statue, turning his head every which way, mockingly inspecting the thing as though it were art, "I think it's charming and so much deeper than it appears." His behavior made the girl laugh again, "Who's to say I wasn't talking about you just now?" She walked past Leo on her way to the motel office and he smiled to himself before following behind. But something stopped him. His trained ears detected a noise from above. Looking up at the source, he stiffly noted the sniper barrel sticking out of the Dino's teeth. Leonides' eyebrows furrowed. This was officially enemy territory. He would have to be extra careful to not drop any Legion propaganda in this town. It seems the lion had entered the lion's den.

The annoying receptionist really ticked Leo off as Heather purchased the only available room. Her old lady voice just rubbed him the wrong way and it didn't take Vulpes Inculta to tell she was full of it. This elderly woman really put him in a sour mood. What he would give for a trip to the arena with this one. When the transaction was complete, Heather looked back at him with the key in her hand, "Come on let's check it out."

"But I didn't purchase it," Leo stated as he made an uncomfortable face. If there was one thing he hated, it was being in other people's debt. He did not like the idea of this girl providing shelter for him.

"You can just get the next one! It's no problem, really." She smiled and he glared at her, "No, really, Leo. Come on. I need your help looking for clues to where my attackers went tomorrow anyways. And you saved my life. And you freed the slaves I wanted to free. This room is the least I can do." Leo sighed, "Alright, fine." Together, they ascended the shoddy steps and entered the rundown motel room. The first thing they both saw was the single, queen bed. Awkward. Before Heather could say anything though, Leonides dropped his things on the floor and laid down, "The bed is all yours, Miss."

**Hey hi howdy thanks for reading. If you have anything to say, anything at all, leave it in the box below. I'll try to update ASAP, but you know how that goes ahahahahahahahahaha… **


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